John Doe: A Weekend Without Information
by LeafsFan2003
Summary: Set approximately six months after Karen's death. Basically, John has been going without sleep and the first time he does sleep, he wakes up realizing he can't remember everything.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: John Doe is owned by the Fox Network and not by me. Also, this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic so please be kind.

Special thanks goes out to fellow fan Booklovr for pointing out the flaws.

Hopefully the formatting is now right on this.

John Doe: A Weekend Without Information

Chapter 1

Dawn broke over the Cascades and bathed Seattle in an eerie yellow light. John Doe took in the sight, knowing it was nothing more than how sunlight reflected off the atmosphere. He was glad for the distraction, though, since it took his mind off of the computer screen.

_I can't believe it's been six months,_ he thought to himself.

Stifling a yawn, John got up and went to the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. He'd had another sleepless night in front of the computer, still trying to solve the mystery of who he was. The only clue he had was that he was the Phoenix, whatever that meant. Aside from the mythical bird and the city in Arizona, it could have meant anything. Thus, he'd spent endless nights searching all over the Internet, in chat rooms, anywhere trying to find out everything regarding the Phoenix.

Moreover, John had been avoiding sleep to keep from having to dream about Karen. It'd been six months since they'd killed her. They'd taken her out of his life for no reason other than the fact that she knew him. He'd promised her that he'd avenge her death, no matter how long it took. So far, he'd had no luck tracking down the Phoenix group. They seemed to always be on the move.

He knew they were watching him, at least out in public. As a precaution, he'd taken to doing a sweep of his apartment every few days to locate any bugs that they might have planted. So far, his precautions had paid off. He'd already found numerous bugs, ranging from microphones to miniature cameras. He'd pretty much ensured no one could watch him from inside his computer room. Frank and Digger were the only ones allowed in there now.

He was glad to have his friends. They kept him anchored in the real world. They were constantly concerned about his health, especially since he wasn't sleeping right anymore. Despite that, he still helped out on cases at the Seattle PD.  A few of the officers still distrusted him, but John could tell they were slowly, but surely starting to appreciate his help. And John still went down to The Sea to play piano for Digger, though Digger had told him he didn't need to come if he didn't feel like it. Still, it was an added distraction from his personal hell.

John finished his breakfast and put the dishes in the sink. They were piling up again. Washing dishes had been Karen's job, when she was around. She'd been the one who kept John closer to reality than the rest of his friends. She always had a cute comment whenever he was engrossed in some case or babbling on about obscure facts.

_Facts, _he thought. _All these facts are like a curse to me._

Frustrated, John went back to his computer and began another seemingly fruitless search on information about the Phoenix. And, as with the previous thousand or so searches, all that came up was "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix".

_Why? Why did J.K. Rowling have to write a book about the Phoenix? _John thought.

It was as if she were part of the Phoenix group, purposely titling a children's book after the very bird he was seeking information about. Karen would have said it was a mere coincidence, which it was. There were scores of books about the Phoenix myth, the city, all its sports teams, and, now, a children's book. He'd even found bookstores with the name.

Frustrated, John closed the search engine and left while his other program tried to find a match to the symbol that was on his right side. Even that puzzled John. All he knew was that no symbol in all of human history matched it and that it was constantly setting off the metal detector at the Seattle PD. He'd once thought about extracting the metal himself. He had the knowledge to perform surgery, after all. But, obtaining the materials to create an anesthetic was next to impossible, especially in an age where everyone considered everyone else a potential terrorist.

Tiredly, John staggered over to his bed. He knew he needed sleep and absolved himself to not dream while he did. After a few minutes tossing, sleep finally came. He awoke suddenly after what felt like only a few minutes. And it did. He'd always known exactly what time it was, ever since he woke up a year ago. But now, now he didn't know what time it was. Worried, John checked his clock. He'd been asleep for fifteen hours.

_Something's wrong, _he thought. _I've always known what time it is._

He got dressed and went down to see Digger. If ever he needed a good answer, Digger was the man to talk to. Luckily he was working the bar that night.

"Hey, John, glad to see you're out for a change," Digger quipped as John took a seat.

"Digger, I'm worried. I woke up a few minutes ago and didn't know what time it was."

"Didn't you check a clock?" Digger asked.

"Yes, but the point is, I've always known exactly what time it is." John told him.

"I never knew that. So, why's this make you worried?"

"Ask me a question," John said.

"Hey, now, I know what happens when I ask you questions," Digger said, slightly backing away.

"No, just ask me a question. I need to make sure it's not just the time I've forgotten."

"Ok," Digger thought for a moment. "What's the population of Vegas?"

John thought, and thought, and thought.

"I don't know," he answered, finally.

"What do you mean, 'I don't know'?" Digger asked, incredulously.

"I simply don't know." John told him.

"That's not like you, John," Digger said, calmly. "You sure you're feeling well."

"Well, I haven't been sleeping well, as you know."

"There's your problem," Digger told him. "You haven't slept well for six months. The stress is getting to you, John. It's killing you."

"But I haven't had this problem until now," John said.

"John, you've been exhausting yourself and your brain the past six months. For all you know, the other parts of your brain are still asleep. You might know everything, John, but your still human. Humans require sleep and you know that. But you wouldn't listen to your mind when it was

begging for rest and now it's punishing you for it."

"So what are you saying, exactly?" John asked, almost knowing what Digger was going to say next.

And he was right. "You need a vacation, John. A real one. Get out of Seattle for awhile. Don't think about Karen, the Phoenix, Frank, me, or anyone else. Just go somewhere and relax."

"But what if something comes up?"

"We'll deal with it like we did before you came around, by ourselves." Digger told him.

"But?"

"Hey, have I ever told you wrong?" Digger asked.

John knew he was right. Digger had never told him wrong. Even in the first weeks after Karen's death, Digger had been there for John, giving him inspiration. And he'd always taken Digger's advice. This was as good a time as any to take it.

"You know, you're right," John finally said. "I do need to get away. Maybe I'll take a camping trip."

"That's the idea. I know of a good place up across the border in British Columbia. It's right on the river, has plenty of hiking and good fishing. You'll love it." Digger told him.

"Thanks," was all John could say.

John had never been camping before. Well, not that he knew of anyway. For all he knew he used to go camping all the time before he lost the memories of who he was. Still, it was something new to try. Maybe he'd like it, maybe not, but it would get him away.

He decided to leave on a Saturday. That gave him plenty of time to pack the things he'd need for the trip. Digger helped him on that, since he couldn't recall anything on camping. Thankfully, it was a quiet few days at the Seattle PD and Frank didn't need his help on anything. John didn't know how he'd explain to Frank that all his information was gone. He was sure Frank would believe Digger's explanation, but wasn't so sure Lt. Avery would believe it. And the last thing he needed was to get on Lt. Avery's bad side.

Saturday came and John packed all his gear into the back of a truck that Digger let him borrow. He had everything for a nice quiet weekend: a tent, sleeping bag, fishing pole (Digger had told him to wait until he got to the campsite to find bait), lantern and kindling to start a fire. No computer, no radio, no TV, nothing of the modern age. Nothing to distract him.

John went back and checked his apartment once more before leaving. Digger would be staying the whole time he was gone. He just didn't trust to leave the apartment empty for so many days. Satisfied all was well, John got in the truck and headed for Interstate 5 and Canada.__


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I still don't own John Doe. Fox does. If I owned it, Karen wouldn't be dead.

Chapter 2

Several hours later, John walked to a spot along the Fraser River. He could clearly see why Digger had recommended the place. The shear beauty of the place had John in complete awe. Most important, there were no people. Nothing at all to distract him.

The hike to the place had been long, sometimes rough, but invigorating. John had already begun recalling some information by the time he got to his campsite. It wasn't everything, but it was a start. He pushed that out of his mind and began setting up his tent.

Later that evening, as John sat beside a fire, he reflected on his life. The life he knew that is. Luckily he hadn't forgotten all of that. He tried not to dwell on the bad things, like Karen.

"John, stop it," he said to himself. "You're not supposed to think about Karen. It's why you're here."

"You know, if you keep talking to yourself like that, you will eventually go crazy," an unfamiliar voice said from behind a tree.

"Who's there?" John asked, trying to find the source for the voice.

From behind a tree close to the river, an elderly man, stepped out. John could tell by his features he was Native American, but didn't know from what tribe the man was.

"Who are you?" was all John could ask.

The man gave his name in his native language. John looked at him completely perplexed.

"It means 'Possessed by the Spirit of the River'" he translated. "But you may call me River, if you like."

"I'm John. John Doe," John returned the greeting.

"I already know who you are, John." River told him. "I have been expecting you for quite some time."

River's remark startled John, somewhat. The only one's who followed his moves were the Phoenix.

"You've been expecting me?" was all John could ask.

"Do not worry, John, I am a friend," River reassured him.

"Who sent you?" John asked, after a pause.

"A friend."

John knew it had to have been Digger. Digger was as mysterious to John as his own identity. He still didn't know all of Digger's friends and was quite sure he never would.

"Then you know why I'm up here?"

"I know that you have lost something." River told him. "I am here to help you find it."

John considered this for a moment. If the man were a friend of Digger's, then maybe he was here to help him recover his lost information. Then again, he could be working for the Phoenix and be here to recover his other memory, his true memory.

"How do you intend to help me?" John asked.

"By performing a dream ceremony. It is an ancient ritual amongst my people that helps cleanse the soul of bad spirits. It will seem like a journey to the person undergoing the ritual, but it helps them face their fears and helps them discover their true purpose in this world."

John almost said no to the man. He was afraid to dream. Afraid of what he might face. In the end, though, River was right, he needed to face his fears.

"When will you perform this ceremony?"

"I shall come tomorrow as the sun sets." River told him. "The ritual takes most of an entire night and requires much preparation."

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with powder.

"This will help you sleep peacefully tonight. It will keep the bad spirits in your from entering your dreams."

"Thanks," John said as he took the pouch.

"Sleep well, my friend," River said as he left.

John had decided to trust the man, for now anyway. He trusted the powder wasn't harmful. Mixing the powder into his water brought a sweet smell, almost of nutmeg. The smell alone brought back a flood of information. John decided he liked the smell and briefly wondered if it was part of his old life.

Satisfied he would sleep well and wake up the next morning, John finally went to bed. He lay for about an hour taking in the sounds of the cool late summer night. The sound of the river quickly lulled him into a deep sleep.

John woke the next morning and, after a small breakfast, decided he would go hiking. He had maybe twelve or thirteen hours before River returned and wanted to see as much as he could. In the distance, John thought he heard a bear fishing for salmon and decided he'd go watch.

The hike was maybe no more than a mile, but the beauty was more than John could believe. It put him in mind of the lands around Seattle only here, the land was vast and undeveloped. Overhead, an eagle soared, most likely searching for the same salmon the bear was trying to catch.

The smells of the forest and the river were more than relaxing; they put his mind completely at ease.

The average rate of erosion of Niagara Falls was almost three feet per year in the 1950's, however, due to major water diversions, the rate has decreased to less than one foot every ten years.

He had almost not noticed the thought. It took him a moment to realize what had just gone through his mind.

_Digger was right. All I needed was a vacation._ John thought.

John felt as though a small weight had been lifted. He noticed however, the information going through his mind, pertained largely to rivers.

Many stories came out of the New Madrid area of Missouri in 1811 about the Mississippi River flowing backwards, but what had really happened was, the violent earthquakes that had struck the area sent giant waves upstream, creating the illusion that the river was flowing backwards.

_Such occurrences are quite common, especially where a river meets the ocean. In China, at the mouth of the Qiantang River, annually, a great tidal bore rushes up the river, causing the uninitiated to believe a tsunami has struck._

_Most people mistakenly call a tsunami a "tidal wave"._

It was wonderful, nonetheless, to be able to recall facts. Not as wonderful as knowing his identity, but still wonderful.  John also realized he'd regained his sense of time.

Sunday, September 12, 4:15 pm and 53 seconds.

He'd been hiking for nine hours. He knew the sun would be going down soon. Turning around quickly, John hurried back to his camp. The whole time, obscure facts about water rushed through his head.

When he returned to camp, John found River patiently waiting for him. The man was sitting beside the fire in a meditative state, contemplating what, John had no clue. As though sensing John's presence, River opened his eyes and stood.

"Welcome back, my friend," River said. "I trust you had a refreshing hike."

"Yes, it was quite relaxing." John told him.

"Good, then we shall prepare for the ceremony."

"About that. Is it absolutely necessary?" John asked.

"Yes, it is very necessary. An invigorating hike in the forest will only scare the spirits away, but they will return. If we do not purge them now, they will return much stronger than before. You will lose your mind and thus your very soul."

John was worried about the nightmares returning. He was worried about once again losing the information that made him who he was. He thought of Lenny, then. The man was of comparable intelligence to him, but had lost his mind and used his intelligence for evil. John couldn't allow himself to turn that way.

"Alright, let's do it." John told him, finally.

"Good. Now I shall ask that you lay upon this bear skin."

John did so.

"Now allow your body to relax. Allow no thought to enter your mind. Listen only to the sound of the river and my voice."

John emptied his mind. River began chanting in his native tongue. John still couldn't understand what he was saying, but could feel himself getting tired. He knew he was going into a trance and allowed himself to. Slowly, the sound of River's voice merged with the sound of the river. John's world went black.

A/N: Ok, so this chapter probably didn't make much sense, but I wanted to use it as a lead in to the next chapters. There'll probably be two more chapters after this and hopefully those'll come to me quite soon.__


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

John found himself in total darkness. Panic immediately set in as he felt four walls on all sides of where he lay. He was in a box, of some sorts. Worse still, he had a sense of falling.

"Help!" he screamed. "Let me out! River! Help!"

Nothing. John could feel the sweat beginning to drip down his face. He could feel his heart racing as he struggled to escape the trap he was in. Most of all, he felt betrayed. As though River had tricked him in order to kidnap him for some nefarious deed. Images of the Phoenix group immediately came to mind.

"John," River's voice called, almost dreamlike. "John, you must not fight that which you do not understand. Relax and all will be well."

"But I'm severely claustrophobic," John told him.

"Yes, I know, but you must relax."

"Please, River, let me out," he begged.

"John, if you do not relax now, then your journey will never begin and the ritual will have been a waste. Please, trust me and relax." River ordered.

"Alright," John acquiesced.

John closed his eyes and cleared his head. He was remembering meditation techniques used by Tibetan monks and made good use of them. Relaxing his entire body, he got the sense that the walls holding him were opening up more. His panic eased and his heart rate slowed considerably. He felt completely relieved.

"Good, you have faced one of your fears." River's voice came back.

"What do I do now?" John asked.

"Allow your mind to focus, and it shall come to you."

John did as he was told. Slowly a street replaced the darkness. Buildings faded in all around him. He noticed immediately that he was alone.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"Tommy?" a voice called.

John spun around. He knew that voice. It was the woman from the ferry. Theresa. However, he couldn't see her anywhere.

"Hello? Where are you?" John called out.

He turned and saw he was in front of a house. Theresa's house. At least he thought it was her house. The first time he'd gone there, the inside had been a normal house. It was there that he'd met the strange old woman with the yellow teeth. The one who'd lied to him. John slowly walked to the door. He wasn't sure what he'd find.

"Tommy?" Theresa's voice called again.

John reached out and opened the door. It opened to reveal the man in the trench coat, the one he'd noticed with the old woman. Every time the man opened his mouth, it was Theresa's voice that came out.

"You? What have you done with Theresa?" John asked.

"Tommy, why didn't you come meet me at the ferry?" the man asked in Theresa's voice.

"I don't understand."

"If you'd come to meet me, then maybe you wouldn't be in this situation."

"But I tried to find you, but you were gone by the time I got there." John said.

Now, instead of Theresa's voice, the man started signing.

_You could have discovered the truth, John Doe _the man signed.

"I don't understand. What have you done with Theresa?" John demanded.

When the man didn't answer, John became angry and reached out to grab him, only the man burst into flames, in the image of a Phoenix. John jumped back, shocked.

"What's going on here? Why am I being shown this?" John yelled.

"You are facing your inner spirits, John, the bad ones. You must find a way to defeat them."

"How?"

"Thomas, you know if you try to defeat them, you'll only lose," the voice said.

John spun around. It was the yellow-toothed woman.

"You. But you're dead. I saw you die."

"As your friend says, I'm a bad spirit. Unfortunately, you cannot defeat me. I am more powerful than you can even imagine."

"Why are you doing this to me?" John screamed.

"Troubled, Thomas?" Yellow Teeth asked.

"Leave me alone!" John lunged at the woman.

"Yes, Thomas, give in to your anger."

John was enraged. He'd never known himself to be so angry. He did get angry, but never like this. His hands went to the woman's neck.

"John!" River's voice yelled out. "John, you must not give in to the taunts of your demons. Defeat them the way you know how."

John stopped short of strangling the woman. River had a point. Violence was not the answer to his problems. He needed to use his mind instead of his strength. Taking a deep breath to calm him, John thought of a way to deal with Yellow Teeth.

"You're nothing but a part of my rather vivid imagination," he said eventually. "I know that you're dead. I saw you die. You're nothing more than a manifestation of my inner stress. I refuse to give into your taunts."

The woman seemed to vanish. Her voice remained, though.

"Very well, Thomas, I'll leave you be, for now."

John's field of vision was filled with the image of the Phoenix bird. He was back.

"And you," he said to it. "I know that I am you. You are a part of me, somehow. I don't fully understand my connection to you, but I will find it. Until then, leave me alone. Let me live. Let me learn what I need to learn."

The trench coat man replaced the image. His eyes stared deeply into John's.

_Unlike my associate, I am not easily defeated,_ he signed. _Some spirits you can defeat, other's you cannot._

The man in the trench coat vanished. Immediately, the house burst into flames. John ran for the door, but it closed and wouldn't open. John tried to break a window, but it wouldn't break.

"What do I do now?" he yelled.

"What does your mind tell you, John?" River's voice asked.

"I don't know!" he yelled, panic-stricken.

"Is the house on fire, John?"

"Yes, yes it is," he said.

"Are you sure?"

John realized River was right. The house wasn't on fire, not in the literal sense. Yet the flames gave off heat. But it was all in his mind. His fear was nothing more than a release of adrenaline. His subconscious mind was merely providing something to stimulate those fears.

Remembering his Tibetan meditation techniques, John quickly relaxed his mind. Around him the fires subsided, finally going out. The scene was replaced by a meadow. The place looked very familiar.

"Hi, JD," a voice called.

He knew the voice. He turned around. It was Karen.

A/N: Ok, so Karen finally showed up in this. I ended it here to give a sense of "Wow!" The next chapter should have JD dealing with Karen's death and another confrontation with trench coat, the only other member of the Phoenix JD's seen. Hope you enjoyed this one. The next chapter should come soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Karen," John said, shocked. "But, you're dead."

"I know," Karen told him.

"How? But you're only an image brought on by stress caused by…"

"JD," she cut him off. "You know how much I hate it when you spout out logic."

She skipped by him by him, almost gliding through the field. John was awestruck.

_She can't be a real spirit, _he thought to himself.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Karen asked, breaking his train of thought.

"Yes, very. Exactly like your painting," he said. "But I don't understand why I'm here."

"Listen, JD, you've been majorly stressin' out since you found me dead. Why don't you just relax for once?"

"Karen, it's not that easy. I mean there've been these cases and trying to find the Phoenix. I said I'd avenge your death."

"I know, I heard you loud and clear. But you can't just expect to avenge someone in a day."

She laughed.

"What's so funny?" John asked.

"You remind me of my sister. She once had a pet mouse and it turned up dead one day. She swore she'd avenge its death and spent a whole week trying to find it. She got so stressed out we thought she'd lost her mind. Turns out, the mouse was old."

"Look, Karen, it's not the same with you." John told her.

"Really? 'Cause you sure are acting like my sister. JD, if you don't relax, you'll lose your mind and then how will you avenge me?"

"I, I don't know." John said.

"Exactly. And just between you and me, I really don't want to see you lose your mind. I mean, you're already half gone as it is, what with the whole mystery thing and all."

John knew she meant it as a joke and laughed.

"See, you need to do that more."

She was right. He didn't laugh enough. It was a proven fact that laughter was good for the mind, especially at relieving stress. 

_Why hadn't I thought of that before? _he thought to himself.

"Um, not to burst your bubble, but I can read your mind, JD." Karen told him.

"Really? I didn't know you were psychic."

"Very funny. Look, I don't have much time as it is. You know, the whole spirits can't interfere with the living thing. You're my friend, JD. I don't want you to forget me, but I don't want you to go crazy avenging me. I'm ok, here. No more worries, ok?"

"I guess you're right," he said.

"Have I ever told you wrong?" she asked him.

"Never."

"Good, now go, you making my flowers cry."

"Will I ever see you again?" John asked.

"You might, who knows, right?"

"Goodbye, Karen."

"Take it easy, JD."

The image of the field slowly faded, replaced once more by the darkness. John assumed it was the end of the ceremony. Yet he didn't wake up.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Only you can bring yourself out of the dream, John." River's voice told him. "You must be completely ready to wake up."

"I'm ready to wake up. I'm sure I am."

"Then, wake up."

John woke to find himself next to the fire. The sun had already come up. John sat up and looked around. River was nowhere in sight.

"River?" John asked.

He got no answer. He wondered if River had been a dream also. Shrugging, John got up and fixed a quick breakfast. Today was the day he'd head home. He felt completely relaxed. Everything had returned. Everything except his identity.

_Too bad I couldn't find that out,_ he thought to himself.

John packed up his gear and trash, made sure his fire was out and began the hike back to Digger's truck. Nine hours later, John walked up to the bar at The Sea. A smiling Digger appeared as if by magic.

"So, how was your weekend?" he asked.

"It was relaxing. I've never felt better." John told him.

"Good to hear. I trust all the information came back?" Digger said, tapping his head.

"Yes, it's all there. Well, almost all of it. Still no idea who I am."

"Well, it's still good to have you back and I mean the real you." Digger said as he walked away.

"Oh, by the way, thanks for sending that friend of yours to help me." John told him.

"What friend?" Digger asked.

"The Native American man that met me there."

"John, the only Native American friends I have live in Arizona." Digger told him.

"But he said he was a friend of a friend. I thought he meant you."

"Sorry, John, wasn't me." Digger said and walked away.

John sat there for a moment. Fear ran through his mind.

_Who could have sent him?_ he thought.

Deep in the forests of British Columbia, a train slowly made it's way along the tracks. Inside the lone car was an array of computers, each manned by someone doing continuous research. On several screens were news articles on John, on others, archaeological digs across the globe. In one corner at a table sat the trench coat man, typing away on his TDD.

"You were unable to get the information we needed." Trench coat said. "You only taught him to oppose us."

"Forgive me, but I had to gain his trust in order to perform the ceremony." River told him.

"Still, he learned to not fear us."

"She is to blame." River said, pointing to the corner. "She appeared in his dream and told him to relax. It is her fault, not mine."

"It is unfortunate." Trench coat responded. "I'm afraid our relationship is at an end."

"Please, no, give me another chance." River begged as two men grabbed him. "I can get the information you need. Please."

The men opened a door as the train went over a trestle. River tried to make one final plea, but was thrown out before he could finish.

_Such a pity,_ Trench coat thought. _He was convinced he could break Doe._

Trench coat looked over to the corner at the captives.

_How is it you were able to get into his mind? _he thought.

He slapped the one he thought River had pointed to. It was Theresa. Too exhausted to make a sound, she merely jerked, but remained asleep. Beside her, gagged and bound and equally exhausted, Karen slept; unaware of how she'd helped her friend.

The End

A/N: Ok, I know, everyone thinks Karen's dead, but I don't think she is. She has to have some connection to JD or else the Phoenix wouldn't have taken her in the first place. They could have taken Frank, Digger or Jamie, but why Karen? Theresa's sister perhaps?


End file.
